


Richie's Terrible, Horrible, Not Good, Very Bad Day

by zinjadu



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-27
Updated: 2012-06-27
Packaged: 2017-11-08 17:08:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/445520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zinjadu/pseuds/zinjadu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set before Season 5.  Plays out like it says on the box.  Written a while ago, rehosting here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Richie's Terrible, Horrible, Not Good, Very Bad Day

Oh god. I had the worst day. No, you have no idea how bad it sucked. Sure, normally days for me, they’re up in the air, could go one way or another. Depends on if an old friend of Mac’s is in town. And by old friend I mean someone who pretty much wants to kill him and I happen to get in the way.

That used to happen a lot. More than it should’ve.

It wasn’t that kind of bad day, but I kinda wish it had been. Yeah. I would rather have been fighting for my life against some new, evil Immortal while Mac romances the girl instead of living through this day.

That bad.

It’d started off pretty normal. Wake up, clean off, and get to the drop for the morning. Terrance didn’t like to be kept waiting for the goods, and I wasn’t ready to let them know that killing me wouldn’t do them much good. And I’d have to move out of town and deal with trying to get into a new city’s underground. I’m already established here and don’t much like having to leave the set up I already got.

So yeah, I hopped on my bike and made my way down to the waterfront. Not that I wasn’t that far from the waterfront. I coulda walked, but I didn’t want to be caught there on foot. At least with the motorcycle I’d have a decent chance of getting the hell out of there if something went wrong.

And hey, it did.

Went in like usual, had the goods in a hidden pocket in my jacket. Sword close by too, just in case. Can’t be too careful now a-days. Mac taught me a lot of things about being careful when there are crazy Immortals around.

Anyway, Terrance was there, waiting. Always waiting cause he wanted to make sure he had the upper hand and on the off chance it’d make me look bad. He liked to pretend that did me a favor by dealing with me. Bastard. He stood there, demanded the goods and I handed them over for inspection. He made a big deal out of it, too. That shoulda been my first clue that something was up, cause Terrance doesn’t like being around me longer than he absolutely has to. But that day, he felt like taking his sweet time.

Then he got done fussing and we had to haggle about price. That’s pretty standard, though. I want to not get cheated, and he wants to cheat me. We have communication problems, I suppose. Finally we got down to the right price, what’d already been the price for the job, but before I could get my money and scram a bunch of assholes shot at us. Hit us too, but that’s less of an issue for me. More of an issue for Terrance.

So there we were, running and bleeding. I accused him of setting me up. He did the same. Like I said, communication problems.

Gunfire going over head, we ducked and weaved through crates and boxes and all kinds of metal catwalks and crap. He was bleeding pretty bad, probably hit an artery. I was too, but it wouldn’t kill me. At least not for very long. Outside, we ran for my bike, but when I tried to start it up, it wouldn’t. Did a quick check, found the bastards had cut my fuel line. We had to walk. More like run, scurry for cover and hope we didn’t die. I didn’t want to use Terrance’s gun, didn’t want that kind of trouble, and we were too out of it to use it.

Eventually, we got out of the warehouse district and into a calmer area of town. I put him down next to a hospital and played ding-dong-ditch with the doors. Didn’t want them to question me about anything and he wasn’t gonna say anything, what with loosing consciousness about then. Me, I just wanted to get back to my place and hole up. I figure since Terrance wasn’t really gonna try to kill me, they musta been after him.

I was hoping to get away from that whole thing without being chased after. Cause really, a guy shot up as much as me normally either goes to a hospital or dies. Sometimes both, but I didn’t want to deal with hospitals and doctors wondering how all those wounds went away over night.

Back at my little dingy apartment, I staggered in, wincing at the blood leaving a nice bright red trail on the carpet and thought about how my landlady was gonna have a fit about that. Starting to go a bit fuzzy in the head from loss of blood myself, I jangled my keys out and opened the door. I was too out of it to notice the whole place had been ransacked. They’d had plenty of time, too, what with getting Terrance to a hospital and me getting back all on foot.

Now, Immortals can take a lot of punishment, but a good two-by-four to the back of the head’ll do anyone in, especially on top of being pumped full of lead.

Just before I blacked out I saw a bunch of hired goons surround me and then it all went dark.

I woke up and it was dark. Not cause I was blindfolded, but cause the lights were out. That was something. I was tied to a chair, though. Good knots too, and high quality rope. Didn’t burn my wrists at all. Fuckers. Whoever they were, they weren’t interested in mild discomfort. They wanted to lay down some big time pain, not waste time on the small stuff.

I’m gonna skip over the next couple of hours, cause they weren’t pretty or fun or anything I wanna think about again. Eventually, they figured I’d had enough. I didn’t know what the fuck they were talking about. Something about jewels and territory and respect. Being just an errand boy, I didn’t understand much of it. S’why I never wanted to be in the big leagues, they play for keeps.

And don’t point out that Immortals play for keeps too. At least there are some rules with Immortals. Like churches being safe ground. And other things, about at least seeing them coming with a big fucking sword.

I really don’t like guns.

They left me there, in the dark and my own blood, but the thing about Immortals is that we heal pretty fast and really well. I don’t know how long it took, but after a while I was back in fighting shape, right about when they thought I’d be going through the worst of feeling miserable. Sometimes, its good to be me.

Door opened and Goon #1 got a chair to the stomach, knocking him back, while Goon #2 came up to try to knock me down, I kicked him right in the knee, an old trick Mac showed me. Dropped him too. Kicked them both in the lock up room and shut the door. Lucky me, it only locked from the outside.

Made my way real quick through the hallway, found a room full of tools and cut myself free. Now without a chair tied to my back, I ran through hallways until I came up to the main part of what looked to be a house. A god damned house with a torture room for a basement. What kind of shit had Terrance gotten me into? If Terrance was even alive.

Just as I was about to get to the garage, another bullet hit my shoulder. That was when I remembered I should have remembered to get rid of their keys before locking them in the fun room.

God fucking damn it.

Like hell terriers, the goons were after me again, guns blazing. I barely managed to get into the garage. And oh man, were there some pretty cars in there. I had my pick of a lot sweet rides, but I found the fastest one I could, a nice little red number with less than a thousand miles on it, and sped out of there. For a little while I was worried that they were gonna follow me, make a big nasty chase out of the whole thing, but once I got to the main roads, they weren’t in sight. I even made sure to circle the city a few times, just in case.

Did I mention that it was a gorgeous, classic Mustang, complete with spoiler, painted a great cherry red?

So maybe the last drive around was more than I needed to, but how often does someone like me get to drive a car like that?

My heart broke when I had to ditch it and catch a bus to keep moving around. It was only four or so in the afternoon, but I coulda sworn it was later. I guess being tortured instead of having lunch throws your whole day out of whack.

And that reminded me that I hadn’t eaten anything since last night. My stomach rumbled, so I figured I better get food before doing anything else. Hey, getting shot and tortured doesn’t mean I don’t get hungry. I’ve still got the body of an eighteen year old and I think it sometimes hasn’t figured out that I’m not gonna grow anymore.

I stopped in at Joe’s, and was really lucky that he happened to be out at the time. Probably chasing after Mac or something. Again. Hell if I know. Anyway, didn’t even stop to chat to the new waitress while I scarfed down a burger and some fries before taking off to the hospital. They might have already gotten to Terrance by now, but I had to check to make sure. It’d be bad for business if my drop man died after meeting me. His boss might not be so understanding, at least not with just my word against the body of his dead goon.

Lucky me it was still visiting hours. I wound my way around to the ICU and snuck past the nurse’s station. Once I got past that, no one bothered me much. Hospitals are easy. Get past the main doors and people figure you belong there, either to see someone or get seen yourself. Or at least as long as you don’t try to go to staff only areas. People get touchy about that sort of thing. I found his room easy enough, and there he was, strapped to machines and beeping up a storm.

I needed to get him out of here and to his boss. Get the whole situation straightened out so only one side was after me, not both. Cause soon, Terrance’s boss was gonna wonder why his good, reliable stooge hadn’t showed up with the goods I had been scheduled to give him. I stepped into the room and circled around the bed. Didn’t even try to read the chart, no idea what all that medical stuff meant. But he did wake up. And then got a good look at me.

He musta trusted me cause his heart rate didn’t go up, but he did look really freaking pissed off. “What do you want, Ryan?” he asked me.

“Some guys roughed me up pretty bad after I dropped you off here, and they went over my place too,” I told him, ignoring his question for now. “What I don’t want is your boss thinking I had anything to do with his. Need to get you back to your little club house so I don’t get shot at from both sides.”

Terrance just grunted and looked me like I was crazy. And then he realized that I’d been shot too, or that I should have been shot. The goons had laid down pretty good fire. He narrowed his eyes and looked at me like I’d seen Mac look at a new antique, like he didn’t know if I was worth it or not. But he must’ve decided I was worth it cause he sighted and started to get up, pulling cords off and tubes and needles out. That set a few alarms off, and some nurses rushed in. And they called a doctor, but Terrance signed out AMA and we were off. Well, he phoned his boss first and we had a car pick us up. Then we were off.

I noticed Terrance looked a bit peeked during the ride. I didn’t mention it.

We pulled up next to a swank downtown building, and were hustled inside pretty quick. They even had a wheelchair waiting for Terrance, which was nice of them. I suppose actually being part of the whole organization came with perks. Not enough for me, though. We were led up to the top floor, a penthouse kinda place and showed inside.

Place was huge, and did I mention swank? Cause wow. I don’t think even Mac has this much money. But then again, Mac never did anything illegal to get his money. Least I don’t think so.

And in this really nice sitting room place, sat the smallest man I ever saw. I’m talking freaking tiny. Not freakishly tiny, but still. Small. Like I coulda played basketball with this guy. Him being the ball, in case you were wondering.

“Alright Terrance, tell me how and who got you like this,” he said in a weirdly deep voice, and waved his hand at his goon stuck in the wheelchair.

“We,” Terrance said looking at me for a second, putting a bit of emphasis on that ‘we.’ Damn, I was gonna owe him for this. “were jumped. Don’t know who but they were probably looking for the goods our grab man here gave me.”

The tiny boss man hunkered down in his chair some more, tapping his fingers together like some kind of cartoon villain. I thought he might look better with an eye patch and a white cat, but I kept that to myself. He didn’t seem to have a sense of humor.

“It seems a new player wants to set up shop in my town.”

“Sir, you suppose they actually want that little statue?”

“Perhaps. Either way, we still have it our possession, for which I thank you greatly, Terrance.” Then like it was an afterthought he said, “And you as well, Mr. Ryan.”

I managed a quick, “Don’t mention it,” before I could get myself into any more trouble.

“But I need to let him know I am not to be trifled with,” he said. Sheesh, ‘trifled with.’ This guy had serious issues. “I’ll need to send good men in on this. But I’m afraid I don’t know where I would go looking for them, Mr. Ryan.”

Oh. Oh shit. The boss man was now smiling at me like a shark and I didn’t have anywhere to go or anyone to run to.

“Don’t know how to help you, sir.” I choked a bit on the ‘sir,’ but I don’t think he noticed.

“I think you do, Mr. Ryan. Terrance told me that they brought you to a house. I am sure with the proper incentive you could find it again.”

“And that would be...” I angled.

“Your life. Understand, Mr. Ryan, that if you do not assist me in this, I would regrettably be forced to dump you in the Sound like so much trash.” And there was that smile again, that cool, slick smile. God damn. I really didn’t want to set up in a new place. And its not like I had to kill anyone, just show boss man’s goons where to go be violent at.

“Fine, I’ll lead your go—men to the house they had me in. I don’t even know if they’re still there, though.”

“For your sake, Mr. Ryan, you better hope they are.”

And then I was turned out of that penthouse and sent down to the basement. Turns out that’s where they kept the weapons. All kinds of guns, big ones, small ones, some with enough firepower to make new doors. Couple of guys tried to press a few on me, but I managed to avoid that. Until the goons walked in. Five of them, all huge and built like brick shit houses. Even being so big, I bet they could move faster than anything when they needed to. The leader walked up to me and pressed a gun at me.

“Don’t need one,” I told him.

“You’ll be needing one by the end, kiddo, trust me. Don’t want more bodies to deal with,” he rumbled.

“Don’t need one,” I repeated. “Don’t like them.”

“You’ll take one—”

Looking back, whipping out my sword and nicking the head goon’s neck with it wasn’t a good idea. But like I said, I really don’t like guns. They make any idiot able to kill anyone else. Even someone you didn’t mean to kill. He got the point, though, and backed off. Couldn’t tell if he was impressed or pissed off. Those sunglasses hide a lot, and I’m not great at reading faces.

Then we headed out. I gave the best directions I could, considering my flight was a bit hazy. Still probably recovering from the work they did on me at that point. But eventually we got there, just after sundown. They killed the engine and we went on foot. It was like a real life, urban commando raid. We walked the perimeter, found weak spots and went in.

I was only in the lower part of the house, but the upper levels were enough to make the boss’s penthouse seem more like a dive than a swank downtown apartment. I tried to ignore the itching in my finger tips as we passed pricy item after pricy item. Though I did do my best to memorize the layout of the place, just in case.

Then I felt the Buzz.

Let me tell you, when you’re going in, working with crime lords and crazy bastards with guns, the last thing you want is to know the guy you’re gonna teach a lesson to is an Immortal. I started to wonder if it hadn’t been me he was looking for after all. The goons had left Terrance alone in the hospital and only gone after me. They’d gone to my apartment instead. And waited around.

And hey, get a Quickening and set up your new crime ring, all in the space of a few days. What crazy, evil Immortal couldn’t say no to that?

I was gonna have my work cut out for me. I didn’t want these guys to die. Yeah, they weren’t great people, hell I’m sure they weren’t even good people, but that didn’t mean they deserved to get involved in the Game. I hoped there would be some nice, standard human goons they could play with while I had to deal with my own fight.

Luck still seemed to be with me when some shots rang out when our fearless leader stepped around the corner. They jumped into a firefight quicker than kids tearing into presents on Christmas morning. Or me going at a new box of Sugar-Os. Hey, its awesome stuff.

Anyway, I hared off to follow the Buzz and find the crazy son of a bitch who wanted me dead.

Yeah, no matter way you put that, it still sounds stupid.

We found each other in the main, grand ball room place. High ceiling, chandeliers, tapestries, impressive staircases. The works. I came in through the main doors, and there he was, standing up on the landing on the other side of the room. He looked kinda familiar, but I couldn’t place him.

“Richie! Long time no see, old friend. I bet you don’t remember me, but I remember you.” Okay, now I was really confused, cause this guy was talking to me like I was an old friend, and I guess he was saying as much, but nothing about him really stood out to me. Brown hair, brown eyes. Plain looking all around. Bland almost. With a not so great hair cut, not cause he had a bad barber, but cause his hair just wouldn’t cooperate.

My jaw dropped. “Danny!?”

“So you do remember me. Well, that’s more than you can say for most people.” He was still grinning and I had a load of questions for him. I hoped he didn’t want to get down to the fighting too quick. Or at all. He started walking down the staircase, with a cane. I could hear the rattle and knew he like to play like he was some kinda upper crust, old fashioned gentlemen. Sword canes are kind of worthless in my opinion. I let my sword arm relax, but stay ready. I didn’t want to be caught off guard just because this was an old friend. They were the ones most likely to want you dead.

“We had good times,” he went on. “Remember our pact?” He showed me his palm, where a faint scar still ran across the surface. My own was faded, almost not there. Calluses from sword training. Probably why I forgot about him.

“Yeah, I do. Blood brothers.”

“Blood brothers. Brothers, Richie. Brothers. We were supposed to do everything together, like real family. But you ditch me the second you got a chance at a real life, that big dumb weirdo taking you in and all. Then you just disappear. Poof!” He tapped his cane on the ground, getting worked up as he talked. “So I left the city, went out on my own. Got killed.” He laughed. “Then I woke up! Sure as hell surprised me. Got taken in by a nice man, taught me everything I know. Then I killed him. Now that was a rush, let me tell you. Ah. But really, it’s good to see you again, Richie. I just wanted to let you know, for old time’s sake, I’m gonna make this quick.”

And shit he was quick. Faster than I thought he could, he had the sword out of the cane sheath and coming right at me. But I was fast too. I got my guard up and we fought. Back and forth, all of the freaking room, like that old Robin Hood movie. He was fast, but I’d been training for longer, I bet. And with Mac.

Damn, whatever’s happened with Mac, he did good by me for a while. Took me in when no one else would, gave me a chance at a better life. So yeah, he went crazy and tried to kill me. Not gonna ever forgive him for that. But for a while, he was good. That had to be worth something. Then it hit me, for a while, Danny’d been good too. I couldn’t kill him.

“Stop it!” I shouted at him. He was getting winded and his attacks were slowing down more and more while I kept going strong. “I don’t want to kill you Danny! We were best friends!”

“Don’t you get it, Richie? You were always better than me, or pretended to be. Better thief, better with girls, better luck. This. This’ll make me better.”

He lunged at me again, wild and out of control.

I sidestepped and took my swing.

I didn’t miss.

I don’t like Quickenings. They make my head hurt, like I’ve got too much crammed in there all of a sudden and it takes me a while to readjust. And then there’s the light show. Not to mention that I just killed somebody.

His body fell to the floor and I felt exhausted. The body wouldn’t be there for long though, and neither should I. But I had to make it back to the boss man’s place and let him know the competition was gone. For good. And not get drafted into the crime ring.

I found the goons just about to come into the room. Lucky me again. Sure didn’t feel lucky right then, though. They saw the body, it hadn’t gone poof yet, and they took a few steps back. Guess that convinced them I was either crazy or I don’t even know what. Crazy was probably a big part of it.

The ride back was quiet, which was good. I didn’t want to talk, but I was gonna have to soon.

Back at the swank penthouse, tiny boss man sat in his comfy chair and offered me a drink. I turned him down. I’d go have a drink at Joe’s later, but I just wanted out of this as fast as possible.

“My men tell me you did good work, Mr. Ryan. Decapitated this newcomer. A bit excessive, but it got the job done. I am sure that no one else will try such a thing for some time.” He smiled at me, less like a shark than before, but still like he was a bigger, meaner, nastier thing than I’d ever seen. I really wanted to kick his face in right then.

When I didn’t say anything and just stared at him, he coughed and kept talking. “I could use a good man like you, Mr. Ryan. You would be able to afford a better home than place you currently reside, not to mention you would no longer be subject to high-risk grab jobs.”

“No, just have to kill people for you. I understand.” I stood up, got my things and made to leave.

“Don’t be so hasty! Don’t turn this down, Mr. Ryan, you will not get another chance such as this!”

And for the life of me, I don’t know why I turned back around for a parting shot, but I did.

“You’re right, I am a good man, and I don’t need this.”

I got out of there and to Joe’s as fast as I could after that. And then got as smashed as I could. Joe was nice enough to put me up for the night too, and help me with the hangover. Didn’t say a thing about where I’d been or what I’d been doing, he was just there. Joe’s a good man. Taught me, more than anyone else how to be a good man. I owed him.

And I guess maybe Mac too. Kinda. I just don’t know how Mac does it. Did it. Old friends coming at you, wanting to kill you just because they can or because they’ve gone a bit twisted. But they look at you with the face you remember and you gotta kill them or you die. But cause of him I didn’t end up like Danny, didn’t end up crazy and evil and ready to kill anything just cause I could. Or take things cause I could.

Okay, I’m gonna work on that last one, but I don’t know what else to do. I couldn’t ask Joe for a job. He’d give me one in a heartbeat, but I dunno. Maybe. I’ve got some money for now. Can figure some things out. 

I suppose its about time I really was a good man.


End file.
